The List
by MistressInk
Summary: "It's called the five finger rule: come up with five reasons why you should marry him. If you can do that, then it's four more than you really need." After popping the question, Spike gets a case of cold feet. So naturally, he turns to the wisdom of one Xander Harris. How could that possibly go wrong?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS. Any recognizable characters/locations etc. do not belong to me. Author's Note: I came up with this story a while ago. I'm currently on the prowl for a new beta because my previous has just had a baby. My best wishes to her! I'd really appreciate some feedback.**

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"Stupid, plastic piece of crap!" Cordelia muttered, fiddling with the disposable camera.

Willow, the "maid of horror" as she had been dubbed in her mind, had dubbed _her_ "Camera Lady". Cordelia suspected it was an attempt to keep her out of the spotlight during Buffy's Bachelorette Bash. Unfortunately, despite being a total camera whore, Cordy hadn't a clue how to work the flash.

The bride-to-be was currently holding a pose, showing off her most recent gift from Tara, who was also in the wedding party. Buffy held the black lace negligee up against her and waited for the picture to be taken.

"Hurry up!" she said stiffly, her face sore from smiling so long.

"Buffy, it's not working," Cordelia huffed.

Buffy dropped her pose and the negligee, and headed across the room to her friend's aid. The women at the party were all laughing loudly, tipsy from the copious amounts of wine they'd consumed. Buffy could feel herself swaying slightly and placed a hand onto Cordy's shoulder to steady herself.

"This thing's defective!" Cordelia said in her whiny voice, ignoring the scoff that came from her right. "Do you have another camera? Maybe a simpler model?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and pointed down the hall. "There should be one in Spike's bedside table. Instant flash."

The buxom brunette headed down the hall, tossing the disposable camera into the half-full garbage bag, which Willow had carted out when presents started being opened. Cordelia's heels clicked against the hardwood flooring as she neared the boudoir. She came to the door and peeked inside, making sure that in her slightly inebriated state, she hadn't passed the right room.

She flipped the light switch and walked over to the nearest bedside table. She opened the drawer and rifled through the contents. After pushing the lubricant and condoms aside—_Eww!_—she found the digital camera. She pressed the button on top and the screen was immediately showing Cordy her own shoes. Not wanting to dwell on why the camera was kept with their naughty-fun-time stuff, Cordelia went to shut the drawer when something caught her eye. Her rummaging had uncovered a small three-ringed notebook.

Cordelia wouldn't deny it—she was a snoop. Her curiosity was just too great to ignore, and so she picked up the notebook and quickly flipped through the first couple pages. The script was by Spike's hand, and**,** from what she could tell, he had been writing his wedding vows.

Not bothering to close the drawer or even turn off the light, Cordelia hurried back into the living room, where Buffy was sitting back on the couch opening her newest present.

"You're gonna need to keep your new hubby in line, B.'" Buffy read aloud from the card. "'Love, Faith.'"

Buffy smiled hesitantly and opened the box. She blushed profusely as she held up the leather paddle to show everyone else. The surrounding women shrieked, thinking it hilarious, and Buffy's embarrassment grew. She handed her gift off to Willow and took a generous sip from her wine glass.

"Attention!" Cordelia yelled over the giggling guests. "I hold in my hand the best gift by far! It's something I know our girl has been dying to get her hands on."

The room quieted, and Buffy quirked her head in curiosity, much like her fiancé would.

Cordelia squeezed in between Buffy and Willow on couch before continuing. "Ladies, I am holding Spike's wedding vows."

Buffy's eyes went wide, and Willow gasped in excitement.

Everyone eagerly shuffled closer. Buffy undeniably wanted to read what Spike had written, but couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that she shouldn't. Biting her lip nervously, she took the notebook from Cordy. Would Spike want her to read it, especially in front of all her girlfriends? "I don't know if I can."

Cordelia groaned beside her.

"It's private," Buffy said in protest.

"How is it private?" Willow asked. "He's going to read these in front of everyone at the wedding."

Buffy nodded but still wasn't sure. "Okay, so they're not private. But it's supposed to be a surprise."

Cordelia opened the notebook to the first page.

"It doesn't even look like his final draft," she said. "Look, half the page is crossed out. There's no harm in checking out the rough draft, right? The surprise would still be intact."

That settled Buffy's inner debate. She would read the rough draft; surely Spike wouldn't care about that. He didn't even have to find out. What happened at a bachelorette party would stay within the party—wouldn't it? She opened the book and silently skimmed through the first couple pages.

"You're going to leave us in the dark?" Anya's demand came from behind Buffy.

"It's all over the place," the bride said. "I'll read it out loud when I can make sense of it."

Truthfully, Buffy didn't really want to share. She wanted to read Spike's vows and enjoy them all to herself. She wanted this to remain private, to be something only she and Spike knew. However, with friends like Anya and Cordelia present, she knew she wouldn't get away with it.

Spike's words were nonsensical and scribed messily. There were random, disjointed thoughts all over the page, no two of them coming together. Buffy was a little confused over why Spike seemed to have had such a hard time with this. He was the poet, his words beautifully spouting forth. Shouldn't he have had an easy-peasy time with it? The sentences were all lovely, but just didn't flow together into a speech. He couldn't seem to make up his mind about what he wanted to get across.

"Get to the good stuff," Anya instructed, reaching over Buffy's shoulder and flipping the page.

Gone were the scratched-out sentences and the unfinished thoughts. On the next page was a list with Buffy's name written at the top. As Buffy went through the list, any semblance of a smile that she'd had slipped away. Willow, seeing her best friend's face, pulled the notebook away from her and looked at it.

Buffy stood, teetering slightly, and seemed to be debating what to do next. Her lips were pursed, and her eyes were welling up with angry tears. Having read the notebook herself, Willow put it down and took Buffy's hand instead. Meanwhile, Anya scrambled to get a hold of the notebook, too.

"I know you're upset but..." Willow couldn't seem to finish her thought.

Buffy stalked over to the kitchen table to get her jacket, which she'd draped over a chair. She pulled it on and stomped back over to the couch, where Anya and Tara were poring over the notebook. She reached down, tore out the upsetting page, balled it up, and stuffed it into her pocket. Without another word, she marched out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

Willow stood frozen on the spot, unsure of what to do. A moment later, she was also running out the door, panicked and shouting, "Buffy, give me your keys! You can't drive like this."

The guests, all scattered about the room, watched them go. They sensed the party was now over and quietly started filing out of the apartment. Cordelia stayed put, her face a mask of confusion. Anya sat down on the couch with her wine, put her feet up, and watched Tara start to clean up.

"I hope she gets back soon," Anya said. "The stripper is already on his way here."

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**Constructive criticism is like candy to me. Give me a cavity!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" franchise. Any recognizable characters/locations etc. are property of (Joss Whedon? Mutant Enemy? Fox?)... one of them... just not me. Author's Note: I was so pleased by the reaction to my prologue! I had such a happy! Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed or added this story to their alerts list. I'm so chuffed that you would pay it any kind of attention. That being said, I need to send a huge thank you to my fabulous betas who are doing me a big favour. Also, I'm sorry for the lack of updates. I want to start putting the chapters I do have out there. It won't be so long next time - at least I hope not.**

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It had been a bad, bad, _bad _day.

It started by her spilling coffee down her brand new blouse, then slowly got worse when first she discovered she had no money for lunch having accidently forgotten her purse by the front door that morning, and then received an angry text from Dawn, which made absolutely no sense. Oh, but listening to teenage girls squabble and pimply faced boys try to flirt with her all day, really took the cake. If Principal Snyder had the slightest clue what she put up with everyday, being the guidance counsellor, he'd remove the stick from his ass and give her a big, fat raise.

After climbing five flights of stairs in heels, since the elevator was busted—surprise, surprise!—Buffy finally flung open her apartment door and slumped against the wall. She slipped off her shoes and reached over to flip the light switch. The lights did not turn on.

She flipped the switch on and off a few more times and let out an exasperated groan when it became clear that the power had been cut.

"Terrific! Now maybe I can break my toe on the way to crawling miserably into bed," she muttered, feeling along the wall.

Very slowly, she made her way down the hallway towards the bedroom. "Spike? Honey, are you home? I paid the electricity bill, I swear!" she called out. "Spike?"

From inside the bedroom, she heard his deep, muffled reply. "In here, Pet." His voice sounded strangely tense.

"Well, on a scale of one to ten: my day sucked!" Buffy said. "It was a day of endless crap. I'm sorry, but I need to vent, and you're the only person present. Brace yourself for the oncoming tirade."

She staggered her way towards their bedroom, stubbing her toes a few times along the way, but luckily without breaking any. When she finally pushed open the door, she was met with Spike standing in the middle of their room, surrounded by roses.

Buffy stood in the doorway, breathless.

"That being the case, I may've chosen the wrong time to do this," he said, coyly.

Buffy was frozen in place. Spike stood there, looking as handsome as ever in black dress pants and a light blue buttoned down shirt that matched his eyes. His platinum hair sat in soft curls, rather than being slicked back like usual.

He looked at her intently with her coffee stained shirt and mussed hair, and decided she had never looked lovelier than in that moment.

Her shocked expression had his signature smirk sliding back into place. "You like it, baby?" he asked.

She nodded dumbly, not quite able to find her words yet.

Spike released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He stepped forward and took her by the hand, leading her to sit at the foot of the bed in front of him.

Buffy watched him kneel down by her knees.

His smirk faltered slightly and became a nervous smile when she still hadn't said anything after a couple heartbeats. Usually it was impossible to get her to shut up. "Buffy?" He squeezed her hand. "Luv, can you please say something?" He swallowed hard and waited anxiously for her to speak.

Regaining control of her gaping mouth at last, Buffy blurted out the first thing she could think of. "Why is it so dark in here? Isn't this a fire hazard?"

"t's supposed to be romantic," Spike said, shifting on his knees. He had gone to great lengths to make this a memorable evening, hoping she'd appreciate it.

"Oh right. With the candles. But how come I couldn't turn—?"

"I unscrewed all the light bulbs."

Buffy giggled slightly, and Spike's shoulders slumped in relief. He looked up into her big green eyes and began to try and recite the speech he'd come up with.

"I know we haven't really talked about it much—getting married—but I think it's a good idea. I know I don't have a reputation for being a real thinker; I follow my blood, and ever since I met you, my blood's been screaming at me to be as close to you as possible."

Her brow furrowed slightly, and her full pink lips pouted. "I know that was meant to sound romantic, but that last part came across kind of gory."

He ignored her and continued. "I love you; you know it. I don't need to tell you that you mean the world to me."

"Maybe you should," she interrupted again. "I've had a very long and very bad day."

"Will you let me finish?" His tone was scolding.

"Sorry."

"It's not easy for me to say this. I had a whole bloody speech prepared, but now you've thrown me off, and I can't remember a bit of it."

"Just tell me the gist of it. What are you trying to say, here?"

"Will you shut your gob for minute? I'll know when I'm through saying it." Spike got up off his knees and started pacing irritated. He wasn't frustrated with her—ok a little with her, but mostly at himself because he was bollixing this up after so much preparation.

"I've made a lot of bad calls, in my time. There are things in my life I'm not entirely proud of. You do not fall into that category," he finally said, coming to tower in front of her. He was not an overly tall man, Spike, but he was just the right size for his Goldilocks. "I love you. You're the one for me, Buffy, and I'm mucking this up something awful, but I can't think of anything else to say except that I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Her smile was watery. His words might not have been something from an epically romantic movie, but they were perfect. Perfect for her, because it was Spike being Spike. She looked up at him, just wanting to bask in the moment.

"Luv?" He kneeled once more. "Will you marry me?" From his pants pocket, he produced a small black box.

Seeing it, Buffy let out a small sob and gently raised her right hand to caress his cheek. She nodded and let out a blubbery, "Yes."

His face lit up, and he opened the box to place the ring he'd handpicked onto her finger. It wasn't a large diamond, he couldn't afford one, but it was lovely and became even more so when it was upon her left hand. Buffy's face was streaked with hot, fat tears, and her gentle caress turned into a needy grab, as she pulled his face towards her for a kiss.

Spike moved in between her legs and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. He kissed her hungrily, until she pulled away, sniffling. "You keep crying like that, I might start to think they're tears of repulsion," he teased.

She let out a sound that was a cross between a cry and a chuckle. "Oh, happy tears! These are happy tears, I promise!" She hadn't been expecting him to propose any time soon, in all honesty. It was a terrific surprise. Things were ending on a high note tonight, she thought gleefully.

Spike pulled at her hand until she was standing, at which point he encircled her in his arms again. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled the sweet scent of her honey coloured tresses. He felt warm all over, as stupid as that might sound. That moment before she had said yes, had been the longest of his life. For a panicked second, he'd thought she would refuse him. The tension he'd been carrying in his shoulders all day had now dissipated.

"Spike," she said.

"What, Pet?"

"I need you to kiss me again." She pulled out of his embrace. "I have had a supremely crappy day, aside from just now. Actually, it might take more than a few smoochies and some spectacularly sparkly jewellery to make up for it."

Spike raised a scarred eyebrow, watching lustily as she unbuttoned her coffee stained shirt. She grinned at him cheekily while she stripped down to her underwear, and he removed his shirt before reaching out to run his fingers through her hair.

Her smile softened, and she gazed at him lovingly. She was once again convinced that he was the best choice she'd ever made. She leaned up and brushed her lips against his. "Make love to me," she whispered against his lips.

Spike pulled away a fraction and tilted his head, scoffing at her. "I know this is a tender moment, Luv, but really?" Of course, sex with Buffy was always more meaningful and fulfilling than it had been with anyone before, but he wasn't the type of man to refer to it as "making love". The phrase was overused and didn't capture the poetic nature of what they shared, though he'd never actually explain it that way out loud.

She gave him a defensive look and gestured at the room. "Oh, and this isn't the least bit sappy?" She'd concede that his way of proposing was beautiful and thoughtful, but it was kind of a romantic cliché. Buffy didn't care about that, however. It was wonderful, and she wouldn't let it be painted as anything but what it had been to her: perfect.

Before Spike could say anything else, she pulled him into a heated kiss. Pressing against her, he completely forgot what he'd been going to say. He ran his rough hands down her back to clutch at her waist. One of her hands made its way up into his hair and gripped the strands gently. He savoured her taste of cinnamon, and his hands slid lower to close around her ass. He swallowed the moan that escaped her lips and lifted her until she had her legs wrapped tightly around his hips.

Buffy finally drew back when air was desperately needed. "Make love to me," she whimpered.

Spike's eyes were glazed over in desire and, like her, he was panting. "Sure," Spike said pulling her on top of him.

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**I LOVE constructive criticism! If you spot any mistakes please feel free to point them out - that's how I learn. I would also love to hear your general thoughts about this chapter. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not BtVS. Any recognizable characters or locations are property of Joss Whedon & Mutant Enemy, Fox (a bunch of people who aren't me). Author's Note: I'm sorry I took so long posting this. Those of you who have read/reviewed/followed my story have been great; thank you. All I can tell you is that my beta seems too busy to assist me anymore. If there's anyone who'd be willing, PM me please. I'd really appreciate a critical eye. Anyway, onto the chapter. I hope you enjoy!**

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He couldn't sleep.

After a round of rather passionate _love-making_, Spike had left his bride-to-be in bed and gone around their bedroom blowing out all of the candles he'd lit. When he'd returned, Buffy was half asleep. So, he'd pulled her close and closed his eyes. Hours later, the sandman still hadn't paid him a visit.

Gently untangling himself from Buffy and the bed sheets, he got out of bed and went into his dresser's drawer for a pair of pyjama pants. He then crept quietly out the room and headed down the hall, leaving a snoring Buffy still sound asleep behind. Spike manoeuvred in the darkness through the living room—banging his knee against the coffee table once—and felt around on the couch for his leather duster.

He loved his coat. It was a part of his signature 'Big Bad' look, the one he'd been sporting for almost five years now, and had originally been a gift from his ex-girlfriend Drusilla. Though the relationship had ended dismally, Spike hadn't been able to part with it. He'd had it for so long, he wouldn't recognize himself in outerwear of any other kind.

Maybe he could convince Buffy to let him wear it at the wedding, instead of a poncy tux.

That was still a long way off, though, he thought. He found the coat and fished into the pockets for his lighter and smokes, then walked around the couch—managing to stub his toe, which aside from being painful, served to remind him that he'd have to screw the light bulbs back in—and toward the sliding doors that head out onto the small apartment balcony. He let himself out and leaned his forearms against the railing.

The air was cool, but certainly tolerable to him, since he hailed from a colder and usually rainier climate. He lit his cigarette and placed it between his lips. Buffy didn't like his smoking, kept saying it was bad for his health and just plain icky. He loved her, but hadn't budged yet on quitting. His smokes were essential for him, helping him unwind and momentarily release his stress. In a way, they were like an orgasm for his mind. Buffy had her foot rubs, her bubble baths, and the occasional go at the punching bag; Spike had his smokes.

In the three years they'd been together, Buffy had pleaded with him to give it up countless times. At first, Spike had tried to quit, like she'd asked, but after a few failed attempts he didn't even bother any more. Though, he did try now not to flaunt it, by staving off his cravings until she wasn't nearby. She'd been around for quite some time, and now three years was going to turn into the rest of their lives.

She'd said yes. He knew she loved him, and they had been together for a long while now, but he hadn't been sure what to expect her answer to be. He knew she was uneasy about marriage, because of her parents' divorce, and she had never mentioned wanting to tie the knot. Hearing her blubber out a "_yes_" had made him feel so relieved. A "_yes_" meant she was in this for the long run, just like he was. She wasn't just biding her time until she decided she could do better.

And she could do better. Buffy was one hell of a woman, and now she was officially _his _woman. That ring on her finger would signal to other men—and there were often many milling around her—that she had made her choice. He was on top of the world! They would experience everything as a team; it'd be just like before, but now the team would be recognized by all.

Spike plucked his cigarette from his mouth and flicked some ash into the empty flower box that hung over the railing. He reminded himself to call his dad the following day—tell him the good news and of course thank him for hinting that Buffy might appreciate a real, sincere, romantic gesture. Spike smirked to himself and took another drag from his cigarette. Oh, she had shown her appreciation alright!

While watching her sleep earlier, he'd been considering where to take her on their honeymoon. A trip to Europe, perhaps his mother country. It would be a memorable, albeit expensive, experience. However, Spike was leaning towards heading to a warmer climate. California was warm, of course, but he was thinking more along the lines of Barbados or somewhere she could get away with wearing next to nothing all day. He knew one thing: he was looking forward to a break from Sunnydale.

Looking out over his view of the town, Spike couldn't help but wonder why anyone wanted to stay. Everyone claimed to hate it there, Buffy included, and yet no one seemed to take an active interest in leaving. He'd suggested moving to Los Angeles last year, but Buffy had been adamant that it was better they hold off until...? She had never really given him a direct answer, when he thought about it now.

Oh, well... Maybe staying wasn't a bad idea. Buffy's family was here as well as their friends. On top of that they had secure jobs, and real estate in Sunnydale had always been reasonable, which would work in their favor in case they wanted to buy a house after they got married. After all, they'd need more room when they started having little ones.

Spike's cigarette dropped out of his mouth and into the flower box. Where had that thought come from? He was getting a bit ahead of himself, wasn't he? He'd just proposed that night. Buying a house and having kiddies was a long way off. Buffy, would probably want a long engagement first.

But what if she didn't? Would she push for a wedding right away? And a house? Kids? She was a demanding bint, to be sure. God, she was still insisting he stop smoking, after three years of his refusing to! She would sure as hell make sure to take away his smokes if she had babies on her mind. He'd go barmy without his smokes!

"Stop it," he ordered himself aloud. He shook his head and trudged back inside. It wasn't five minutes ago when he'd been thinking of taking her on a honeymoon with a bikini dress code. Now he felt like his head was going to explode.

Spike knew he had to stop before he gave himself a panic attack. He and Buffy would sort things out, but it wouldn't be all at once. He needed to get some sleep; it was probably the excitement of the day combined with his exhaustion that had him thinking like a nutter. He'd feel better in the morning, sure enough.

He pushed the bedroom door open and padded softly across the floor to the edge of the bed. He shucked his pants off and carefully climbed in. Buffy was still sleeping and hogging the blankets, like she normally did.

Everything would be fine, Spike assured himself resting his head on his pillow and closing his eyes. Minutes later, Buffy shifted and her snoring began again, rather loudly. He smiled at how adorable she was.

Twenty minutes later, Buffy was still snoring, and Spike was staring at her, the smile wiped from his face.

A thought flickered through his mind, and it wasn't an entirely pleasant once.

_A lifetime of her snoring. I'll never sleep again._

"Bollocks!" he muttered up at the ceiling.

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**Hope you liked it! Feedback is always appreciated! You don't have to stroke my ego (but of course I don't mind that). All observations and constructive comments are valued.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS. Any recognizable characters/locations from the franchise do not belong to me. Author's Note: Got this one done a little bit sooner. Thanks to those of you who left a review - I was so pleased! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this next chapter! R&R**

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When Buffy woke up the next morning, she could tell something about Spike was off. He had given her a kiss good morning when he'd come into the kitchen, but other than that he barely acknowledged her. Usually their morning consisted of witty banter and playful flirting, but he just sat at the table eating the burnt waffles she had made for him. Buffy tried to get a reaction from him when she substituted his normal cup of tea for bitter, black coffee, and nothing! Not even a grimace!

She was getting ready to walk out the door to head over to her mom's house, when she stopped and confronted him. She needed to know what was wrong.

"Honey?"

"Hmm?" he didn't even look up at her from his copy of Pride and Prejudice—Jane Austen was one of his guilty pleasures.

She put down her purse and sat down on the coffee table beside his propped up feet. "Spike, is there something wrong?" she said. "You've been quiet since you got up."

Spike closed his book and took off his glasses, that she thought he look too cute in them though he'd made it clear she wasn't allowed to comment on that fact. He put his feet on the floor then leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I'm fine, luv. Just a bit tired, is all." He said, reaching over to take her left hand. "Last night was a big night. Have a lot to think about."

She tried to keep a straight face, but found it difficult. The idea that he was having doubts, maybe even changing his mind, hurt. She looked down at their hands, and tried to compose her face. Might as well ask point blank, right? "Are you thinking last night was a bad decision?"

Spike squeezed her hand, comfortingly. "No. Definitely no. Just been wondering where do we go from here? I popped the question, but I hadn't given much thought to what comes next."

Relief washed over Buffy's face. She smiled at him bringing his hand up to her mouth and kissing the back of it. "You proposed marriage. So I would assume that marriage comes after that."

He rolled his eyes and pulled his hand away. She watched him put on his glasses and pick his book back up. "Cheeky," he muttered.

Buffy quickly leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead. She stood up and headed for the door, picking up her purse again along the way. "For me the very next step is telling my mom. For you the next step is telling your—well, actually before you get that far, you're gonna put all the light bulbs back."

"When will you be back?" he asked, after finding his place in the book.

"Planning to have your bachelor party while I'm away?" she giggled. "I should be back before dinner. I was going to make a last minute invite to Willow, Xander and everybody. That ok?"

"Right then. I'll take care of Harris and his missus."

She nodded and was about to leave, but just before she closed the door a question popped into her head. "Spike? Why did you unscrew all the light bulbs instead of just turning off the power?"

His face went blank when she said this, the thought never having occurred to him. He huffed and looked back down at his book. "Do I question the way you go about being romantic?"

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As soon as Buffy closed the door, laughing all the while, Spike shut his book. He waited a long moment, giving Buffy another chance to pop back in, before whipping his glasses off and tossing them onto the coffee table. He dashed around the apartment, looking desperately for the cordless phone. Between cushions, under tables, in the bathtub he searched. He finally found it... in the freezer of all places. He hit two on the speed dial and clutched it desperately against his ear.

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"Sweetie, your phone is ringing," Anya said picking up a laundry basket of dirty clothes, and walking out the front door.

Picking his cell phone off the kitchen counter, Xander answered. "Ahoy-hoy?"

"Harris? I can't believe I'm saying this, but I need you."

"Spike? I'm both revolted and a little flattered. That being said I don't think you and me is a good idea. I'm happily married, to a woman no less. Buffy's also one of my best friends and she'd kick my ass real good if anything was to happen between us."

Spike growled into phone, "are you finished?"

"Well that's kind of rude. You call me in desperation, but don't want to listen to my humorous dialogue? That's not fair, is it?" He said, indignantly. "You know, I ought to hang up on you right now. I get enough of you at work all week, I don't have to take your crap on Saturday mornings. You're interrupting my cartoons!"

From Spike's end, Xander could hear something clatter and Spike stammer out, "hang on!"

Xander sighed and headed over to the couch. He picked up the remote control and pressed mute. Unfortunately, he would have to miss the reveal of the villain in disguise on the new version of Scooby Doo. "Fine. So talk, nimrod."

Spike groaned into the phone and leaned against the kitchen sink. How hard the mighty have fallen...

"Last night, I did something. I don't know what to do about it now though, in the harsh light of day."

Xander's usually slouched posture straightened, all jokes were put aside now. "What did you do, Spike?" But he didn't answer only rambled on about being confused. "Spike!" Xander barked into his cell. "What did you do last night?"

There was a pause on the other end before Spike gave a response. "I didn't bloody do what the only functioning part of your brain, is telling you I did. I proposed."

Xander almost dropped the phone. "You mean...?"

"I asked Buffy to marry me, you git."

Xander took a step back not really sure how to feel about the news. While Spike and Buffy had been together for a while now, he never really thought about them actually getting married. Maybe Xander had been nursing the small hope that she'd realize she was too good for that Billy Idol wannabe, and dump his shiny, white bum. Realistically though, he knew not to hold his breath. Should he really be so shocked?

"Ok... I'm confused now," he said pressing his hand against his forehead.

"Big surprise," Spike mumbled. "Look I asked her last night to tie the knot. I did it up right, with candles and roses. She said 'yes' and then we shagged like desperate teenagers." Spike smirked evilly at the other man's groan of disgust. "Since then I've been thinking that I... is your line secure?"

"Uhh..." Xander looked around the empty apartment, puzzled. "Sure?"

"I mean is Anya there?"

"She went down to the laundry room."

"Make sure she's not coming back up," the blonde ordered.

Xander rolled his beady brown eyes, and pressed his ear against the front door. To be sure he peered out through the peephole. "No, she's probably adding fabric softener as we speak."

Spike was silent then. He had called Xander in a panic wanting to ask advice, but while the two had never been best mates, Xander and Buffy were very close. Could the boy really be trusted not to run his mouth? On the other hand, he was seriously 'wigging out' his girl would say. And it was possible that Xander was the only person that could really understand his state of mind right then.

"You and the little missus are invited to dinner tonight, but you need to come over earlier. Alone. I need your help, Xander."

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**Please leave a review telling me what you thought! Constructive criticism is always welcome.**


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the BtVS franchise. Any recognizable characters or locations are property of Joss Whedon. Author's Note: Well, this time it wasn't an entire month between posts. Thanks to everyone who has been reading/following/reviewing - it means so much to me! To answer a question I was asked: this story can take place whenever, I guess. It is an AU so I don't think it necessarily matters. I came up with the story maybe four or five years ago, before people were using technology for _everything_. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please read end notes!**

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When Buffy entered her mom's house through the front door, the smell of chocolate chip pancakes overwhelmed her. Her mom made them every Saturday morning. She could try and try, but her cooking would never measure up to her mom's. She wandered through the dining room and into the kitchen, where her mom and little sister, Dawn, sat finishing the most important meal of the day.

"Hi Mom!"

The older woman turned at the sound of her daughter's voice. With her big green eyes, natural sandy blonde hair, and cute upturned nose, Buffy resembled her mom. Dawn, on the other hand, looked nothing like either of her parents. It had been a point of pride when Buffy was younger, that she was so obviously Joyce's child while Dawn could have been adopted, for all anyone knew. Buffy used to joke that if she was adopted, it had to have been from a box of baby howler monkeys.

"Hi honey. I didn't think you'd be coming over until later."

"Yeah. Well, I had something I wanted to—oh hey, juice!" Buffy took a generous sip from Dawn's half full glass.

"Hey!" Dawn snatched her glass back. "Mom, tell her to get her own juice."

Buffy rolled her eyes at her sister's childish tone. "I only wanted a sip, you big baby." She headed over to the fridge, in search of the orange juice jug, so she could pour a glass of her own. "I called earlier to tell you, but Dawn wouldn't put you on the phone." If Dawn was allowed to be as immature as a five year old at seventeen, why couldn't Buffy at twenty-two?

Joyce looked at Dawn, expectantly. Dawn made a face at Buffy. "She was being so rude. Trust me, Mom. You wouldn't have wanted to talk to her."

Joyce sighed, putting her knife and fork down on her plate. "I'm getting a very familiar headache. Do you think it would be possible for you two to spare your mother, and stop the bickering at least until noon?"

"Maybe if you had just put Mom on the phone, I wouldn't have been so rude to you." Buffy poured her glass of juice.

"You hung up on me before I got the chance to put her on."

"I didn't hang up. I put the phone in the freezer."

Joyce stopped rubbing her temples and looked at her eldest daughter, with a confused expression. "Why would you put the phone in the freezer?"

"I was getting a frosty reception." Buffy shrugged, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Dawn feigned laughter and got up off her stool to bring her plate over to the sink. She then went to her mother's side and took Joyce's plate over to the sink.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Joyce said over the rim of her coffee cup.

Buffy rolled her eyes at the smug smile Dawn threw her way. "Brown-noser," she muttered under her breath.

"Mom, did you hear what Buffy just called me?"

Joyce put down her hot drink and frowned at Dawn. "Stop tattling." She then gave Buffy a no-nonsense look. "Stop calling your sister names." With that, she stood and took her coffee with her into the living room, escaping the pettiness going on in the kitchen.

Buffy gulped down the rest of her drink and put her glass in the sink. She went to follow her mother, at the same time as Dawn did, which resulted with them brushing shoulders.

Joyce put her feet up onto the coffee table as Dawn and Buffy entered the living room, bringing along their new debate. "You pushed me!"

"I did not!"

"Yes, you did."

"It's not my fault you take up so much room, Buffy."

Joyce held up her right hand halting the approaching girls in their tracks. "Stop! No more."

Dawn crossed over to sit next to her mother, while Buffy sat across from them in the armchair. Joyce smiled. "Buffy, Dawn: loves of my life, for the sake of my sanity, please stop acting like four year olds!"

The girls glowered at each other a moment longer, before Buffy turned her attention back to her mom. "Mom, I came by a little earlier than I said I would, because something came up that I really wanted to talk to you about," she said.

Joyce nodded her head.

"Something happened last night. I came home and Spike was there—"

"Big surprise, he lives with you," Dawn interrupted.

Buffy fixed her sister with a significant look. "Dawn, this is important, ok?" she said seriously, no longer in the mood for sisterly bickering. Dawn gave a nod and went silent.

"Anyways, he had something he wanted to talk to me about. The next thing I know—"

"Oh my God!" Dawn shrieked. "You guys broke up, didn't you?"

"What? No! Can you please let me finish?"

"Well, hurry up and get to the point!"

Joyce reached a hand over and placed it firmly on Dawn's shoulder. "Enough."

Buffy huffed. "Well, as I was saying... and now I forgot what that was. Thanks, Dawn."

"Buffy, just tell me while we're still young," Joyce urged, impatience seeping into her voice too.

"Fine. I wanted to build up to it, but whatever. Spike just proposed, that's all."

Dawn squealed loudly and jumped out of her seat. She threw herself at Buffy and squeezed tight. "Oh my God! You should have just led with that."

Joyce reached over and placed her now empty mug on the coffee table. "I'm going to go ahead and guess that you said 'yes'." She stood and rescued Buffy from Dawn's grip, only to get a hug of her own.

"Well, it was kind of hard not to. There was candlelight, and he was all fancy looking. Plus there's that whole 'being in love with him' thing, which helped along the decision."

Dawn bounced on the spot, grinning like mad. "I knew he was going to ask you! I mean, it's been three years. He had to either pop the question or dump you. Can I see the ring?"

Buffy held her left hand in front of Dawn's face. Dawn grabbed her sister's wrist and pulled the hand closer for a thorough inspection.

"You're really ok with this?" Buffy asked her mom, ignoring Dawn's gushing.

"Of course I am! He asked for my blessing months ago. I've been waiting for ages for you to come rushing over here to tell me. I was starting to think he might never get around to it."

Buffy smiled happily, but felt a little confused. "You don't think I'm too young?" Joyce hadn't been much younger than Buffy when she'd married Hank Summers, and look how that had ended. In the back of her mind, Buffy had expected a different reaction from her mom.

"You and Spike aren't me and your dad, Buffy. The two of you have been together longer than we had," Joyce said softly. "Yes, I think you're awfully young to be getting married, but it's your decision. And I don't think that your marrying Spike could ever be a mistake, whether it's now or five years down the road."

Buffy gave her mother a one armed hug, as Dawn had yet to relinquish her other hand.

"Tell me all about it," Dawn said, demandingly. "How did he ask you? Did he get down on one knee? When is the wedding going to be? Are you actually going to try and get away with white?"

"Dawn!" Buffy said, desperately trying to pull her hand away.

"Oh! Dibs on being Maid of Honor!"

* * *

Xander arrived at Buffy and Spike's apartment at half past five, like he'd said he would. He knocked on the door and waited. He hoped this was as important as Spike had made it sound, and not Spike just over-reacting. He'd turned Anya down for shower sex so he could come over early, and sex with Anya was not easy to turn down.

He knocked again, and a few seconds later the door swung wide open, revealing Spike. Only this Spike was not the one Xander was familiar with. His hair was in unruly curls, he was wearing reading glasses, and his signature smirk was gone.

"Uh, hi." Xander's greeting sounded lame to his own ears.

Spike stepped back, letting him in. "Thank God, you're here." He sounded relieved.

Xander stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face Spike. "That's not something I ever thought I'd hear you say."

"You and me both." Spike closed the door.

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**Please leave a review! Feel free to point out any mistakes you find as I am flying beta-less nowadays.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS. Any recognizable characters or locations from the series, do not belong to me. They are the property of Joss Whedon. Author's Note: Ok, a chapter a month is nothing to be proud of, by my standards. However it is unlikely that this will change. I am without a beta right now and real life is kicking every square of my ass. But I will try to get the chapters out a quickly as I can, I promise! Again, a big thanks to all who read/follow/reviewed this story. I appreciate it! It really makes me happy when someone gives me some input. A reviewer, Lyzzybelle (thanks for being a loyal reader!), pointed out to me that my chapters are fairly short. This is true and may change as the story goes on, but I guarantee nothing. I end the chapter when I feel it is the right place in the story to do so. Coincidently though, this chapter is my longest one yet and I wrote it months ago before her review :) Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

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Xander sat at the kitchen table, munching on an apple. He watched Spike pace back and forth muttering in Brit-speak. Xander ate his fruit quietly. He was trying to keep his smart ass comments to himself, figuring that right now was not the best time to antagonize Spike. At least not when he had that wild look in his eye.

"It's all moving so bloody fast," Spike muttered over and over again.

Xander finished his apple and decided to gently prod for more information, before Buffy got back. He did not turn down Anya and sweaty fun times for nothing.

"Too bloody fast."

"As are you. Can you stop or at least change your pattern? You're making me queasy."

Spike stopped. He came to other side of the table, grabbed a chair, flipped it around, and took a seat. Xander saw an intense look of panic in Spike's eyes. "You have to help me," Spike said.

"With what?" Xander leaned forward in his seat.

Spike's fingers raked through his hair—a nervous habit. "I asked Buffy to marry me!"

"So you told me."

"And she said yes!"

"I know. I'm not exactly dancing a jig about it, but-"

Spike stood abruptly and kicked the foot of his chair. "Don't you get it, you git?"

Xander leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, huffily. "Nope. And you're not exactly clearing the fog."

"Everything's going to change!"

The bleached blonde moved around the table, and leaned against the fridge. He removed his glasses, in a way that reminded Xander of Giles Sr. Xander uncrossed his arms and bowed his head. Joking aside, he didn't need a crystal ball to see where this was going.

"Yeah, it is. You're going to plan a wedding, which is a giant headache, but it doesn't end there. You've got the rest of your lives to plan. Houses, and babies, and in-laws, and puppies, and boats and babies, and—"

"Buffy's not Anya," Spike said, interrupting his babbling.

Xander shook his head. "No, she's not. She's Buffy, who's a whole other kind of crazy. She's got daddy issues. She's a control freak and she never forgets anything. She's my friend, and I love her, but I know what I'm talking. All these bad things spring to the surface when a woman stops being your girlfriend and becomes your bride-to-be."

Spike's brow furrowed. "Where are you going with this?"

"I'm saying that you better prepare yourself for a slew of things you're not ready for, Blondie Bear."

Spike didn't react to the nickname, instead his trademark smirk appeared. "Oh, but you _were_ ready for it? That's a laugh."

"Don't interrupt," Xander said.

Xander also stood and moved to stand directly in front of Spike. He put his left hand on Spike's shoulder. Touching Spike was unnatural, but he needed to convey how serious he was.

"As zany as things are going to get, you need to remember that you love her. The future is big and scary, but you two can handle it. Just remember that your fear is outweighed by your love for her."

Spike shrugged off Xander's hand and he wandered into the living room, with Xander trailing not far behind. He stretched himself out on the couch, and Xander paused behind where Spike watching as the Englishman mulled over his words.

After a long moment's pause. Spike bobbed his head in agreement. "You're right."

Xander rolled his eyes. "You could try saying that without the tone of surprise. I am a husband; I do know what I'm talking about."

"You're right," Spike repeated, his hand reaching down to feel the floor. "I think Hell just froze over."

Xander made a face behind Spike's back. Of course he knew what he was talking about. He'd gone through the same crippling terror when he'd first proposed to Anya. But everything between had worked out in the end.

"We'll just take things one step at a time," Spike said. "I'm getting ahead of myself. I just proposed. Buffy's not going to want babies or a house just yet."

Xander headed for the door. "Since you're sane again... or as insane as your were before, I'm gonna take off. I'll see you tonight. Just remember: the reasons to marry her are more important than the fear to marry her." Turning to close the door, Xander saw that Spike was off in his own world, not listening. "Could have told you this over the phone but... Right. Well, bye. "With that as his parting line, Xander shut the door behind him.

Heading down the hallway to the stairwell, Xander couldn't help but hope that he and Anya still had time for naughty fun.

* * *

Glasses clinked together. "Cheers," Spike said.

The "Scooby gang", as Xander dubbed them back in tenth grade, had arrived with smiles and witty conversation. Buffy sat down all of her friends around the kitchen and table after the dinner plates had been cleared and made the big announcement, with Spike's arms wrapped around her from behind.

Willow's voice became squeaky in her delight and Xander sat with a smile, which seemed to strain his face. Anya went to the cupboard for the champagne glasses Willow had given Buffy for her birthday. The next thing she knew, champagne was flowing and toasts were randomly being made amongst the group. Unfortunately, Tara had class that evening and wasn't able to come.

Buffy held out her hand for her girlfriends to inspect the rock. Spike was leaning against the fridge, not actually drinking the champagne—he didn't like it—just watching their friends.

"Oh!" Anya gushed. "It's so beautiful! I wish it was mine."

Xander sent her a pointed look from across the table. "No offense, honey," she said.

Buffy began to describe the details of how Spike had proposed, relishing in the awe on her friends faces. "I didn't think you were a roses and candlelight, kind of fella, Spike." Willow said.

"I'm plenty romantic," he muttered.

"Giles gave him tips," Buffy whispered.

Anya sat straighter in her seat. "Now comes the appointing of the bridesmaids."

"Oh, well obviously you two," Buffy said putting down her glass. "Dawn, Tara, and maybe one two girls from work. I guess it really depends on how big we want the wedding to be."

"I have just the guy for you."

"Uh... Anya? Buffy has a guy. That's why we're here, remember?" Willow said, giving her a funny look.

"No, I mean I have the perfect wedding planner."

Buffy glanced over at Spike, who seemed to be off in a daze. "A wedding planner? That sounds nice, but I'm sure that Spike and I can manage."

Anya laughed like she had made a joke. "That's humorous!"

"She's not joking, Ahn," Willow said. "Wedding planners are pricey. I'm sure that if we help out, Spike and Buffy—"

"Trust me, you're going to want a planner," Anya interrupted. "And Lorne's rates are pretty reasonable. You met him. He's great! I'll give him call tomorrow and see if he's available."

Buffy was going to argue, but after a moment's reflection decided that Anya might be right. Before hiring Lorne, Anya had started off planning the wedding herself. She had gained almost fifteen pounds, chosen the ugliest bridesmaid dresses, and had frighteningly extreme mood swings. The wedding that Buffy had attended was as nice as it was thanks to Lorne.

"Okay," Buffy conceded. "Maybe just give him my number."

Spike downed the rest of his glass and crossed the kitchen and into the living room, heading directly for the balcony. He slammed the door behind him and lit up.

Xander, who Buffy could tell was getting bored from the conversation, stood and followed him. "I think I'm gonna get some of that polluted air that Spike's sucking up. Save me another glass."

"Now that the men folk are gone, we can talk about obscenely muscular male strippers for the bachelorette party!" Anya said.

* * *

"So?" Xander leaned against the balcony railing. "How's it going?"

Spike took a long drag from his cigarette. "That sense of calm that I found this afternoon? Your missus just blew it apart!"

Xander rolled his eyes. "She's just excited for you two."

Spike ran his fingers through his hair. He'd thought that wedding plans would be saved for a later date. If plans for the wedding were already being made, how soon until the other, bigger, plans needed to be made too?

Xander sighed. "It's going to be fine. You two haven't even set a date yet. I know it all seems like a big rush right now, but it's just the excitement. You guys will take it one step at a time. Just try and focus on the important stuff. Buffy loves you and you love her," he said. "Though I can understand why that would be confusing and scary. It terrifies me, too."

Spike stubbed out his cigarette into the flower box and looked at Xander, taking a few calming deep breaths. "One step at a time, eh?"

"Yep, you just gotta not think about the big picture. It's just a series of baby steps that you'll be taking," Xander said, opening the sliding door. "Then you'll see that the scary stuff isn't that scary."

Spike hated to admit it, but he was finding comfort in what Xander was saying. He was just over reacting. Xander was right, as unlikely as might it sound aloud. He and Buffy would tackle the future together bit by bit. He just had to keep his head on straight and socks on his cold feet, until the big day.

Following Xander inside the apartment he had a good look at his bride to be. She was Buffy; his girl. She was usually the barmy one, not him. The thought made him smirk. Everything was going to be alright. He could see it in her smile.

She was still gabbing with her girly mates. He went and stood behind her chair and gently massaged her shoulders.

"Well, I always wanted to have a wedding with the winter wonderland theme." He heard her say.

And just like that, his calm was demolished again.

"I'm sure Lorne could come up with something," Willow said.

"This is Sunnydale, California, so the snow would have to be faked. So, it would still be pretty, but not cold," Anya said, stating the obvious. "Do you think you guys will write your own vows?"

Buffy smiled and reached up to lace her fingers with his. "I'm sure Spike would come up with something. He's the wordsmith, not me."

Spike's eyes widened and his head started to hurt, listening to Buffy and her bridesmaids brainstorm. He looked to Xander, who gave him a significant look. A look that said 'unbunch your panties'.

"Do you think after the wedding you guys will get a bigger place?" Anya asked, causing Spike to start coughing, panicked.

Buffy twisted in her seat, letting go of his hands, to look at him. "Honey?"

"Ahn, we've gotta go," Xander said, loudly.

Anya looked up at him. "Why?"

"We've got that thing. You know that thing... that we have."

Anya turned back to the others and smiled. "He's not very subtle. He wants sex." She stood up and went to grab her purse.

Spike was still sputtering when Buffy hopped out of her seat and ran towards the bedroom. "Hang on a sec," she called over her shoulder.

Willow handed Spike a champagne glass she'd refilled with water. "Are you ok?" Spike nodded his head and took a drink.

"That's what smoking does to you," Anya said, standing by the door with Xander.

"I've been telling him he needs to quit," Buffy said, returning with a plastic bag filled with left over candles.

"Yes, Spike," Anya said. "Think of your future offspring growing up without a father because you died from cancer."

"Ahn!" Xander said, in a warning tone. Spike began gulping down his water.

"I think I'm gonna head home too," Willow said.

Buffy reached into the plastic bag and began pulling out candles and handing them to her friends, until all three of them were standing with an armful of candles.

"Buff?" Xander gave her a questioning look.

"Spike unloaded most of the candles from last night onto the neighbours, but there were some left over," she explained.

"They smell pretty." Willow smiled, sniffing them. "Lemon?"

Buffy nodded and turned, starting to gather the empty champagne glasses and put them in the sink. Spike handed his to her and went to open the front door for the trio waiting to say goodbye. "Well, cheers for stopping by," Spike said.

They were about to leave when Buffy's voice stopped them again. "Hey, Xand?"

"Yeah?" He spun around to look at her.

"We invited you over tonight for some casual, Scooby gang fun."

"Yes. You did. I came and fun was had." Xander gave her a confused look, which was mimicked by Anya and Willow.

"Well, I'm curious," Buffy said, holding up the empty bottle of champagne. "Why'd you bring the bubbly?" She put down the bottle and came towards him, her eyes looking at him expectantly.

"Well... I-ugh...I just thought that...ugh..."

Xander's beady eyes darted towards Spike, and Spike's darted between him and Buffy.

"You knew?" Willow asked, surprised.

"Yes," Anya answered for him. "Then he told me and I was the one that thought that we should bring the champagne."

Buffy crossed her arms angrily. Spike looked at Xander with a murderous expression.

"Wait," Willow said. "You knew? Everyone knew but me?" Her face became sad.

"I knew it!" Buffy said, angrily. Spike felt his heart rate pick up, when she turned her angry gaze to him.

"Dawn blabbed!"

Spike sighed heavily, and nodded his head, signalling Xander to play along.

"She might have let it slip. Accidently!" Xander said, hurriedly. "Anyways, we're gonna go now. Bye-bye."

He and Anya turned and left. Spike sighed again and went to the couch, dropping down tiredly. He saw Buffy put her hand on Willow's shoulder and lean in to whisper something. Willow's sad face melted away.

"Really? Wow!" she squealed. "I feel honoured! Which, I guess makes sense, since it is an honourable position."

Buffy laughed and gently pushed the redheaded girl out the door, despite the excited amount of chatting she was doing. Buffy turned and scurried over to him. She laid herself on top of him, and kissed him on the chin.

"I'm happy," she said, softly. "I wasn't sure you could tell. You might have been blinded by the dazzling smile I've been wearing."

"I'm happy you're happy, Luv," Spike murmured. Even in his uneasiness, at the very least, he _was_ glad she was happy. That's what was important, after all. He closed his eyes and inhaled her heavenly scent. At that moment how could he possibly be afraid of a lifetime with her?

"You do know that you have to call your dad tomorrow, right? To tell him how it went."

Spike's eyes popped open.

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**Let me know what you think? I have no beta now, so please point out any mistakes you have found.**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Any recognizable characters/locations from the series belong to Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy/Fox. Author's Note: I want to thank everyone that is still reading this story despite how long it takes me to update. I also want to thank you for the reviews I have gotten for this story. I really love constructive criticism! I don't have a beta right now, so if you see any mistakes please feel free to point them out.**

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"Honey?"

Spike recognized that tone. It was that innocent, high pitched voice she used when she wanted something.

It was a lazy Monday morning on his part. Buffy was rushing around, getting ready for work, whereas Spike didn't have to be at the site until eleven o'clock. He stood in the shower under the spray of hot water, letting it soothe his aching muscles. He was still sore from the night before—Buffy's stamina could be both a blessing and curse.

"What is it, Pet?" he asked, picking up the soap.

"Well, I was thinking that we should start making wedding plans."

For a moment, the water felt ice cold. Spike dropped the soap and nearly fell out of the shower trying to pick it up. He tried to keep his tone even when he answered, not wanting to give away his uneasiness.

"Plans? Right now?" He proceeded washing his body, managing to keep a better hold on the soap. "What's the hurry, Luv?"

"Not a hurry and not big plans. Basic plans," she said. "Like setting a date."

Spike once again dropped the soap. He reached down and picked it up again, giving himself time to think of an appropriate answer.

"Whenever you think is best, is fine by me," he said, thinking it was the safest answer.

"Well, I'm thinking we should give ourselves a year at least. So, sometime next May? A winter wonderland theme does seem kinda silly when you live in southern California."

Spikes nodded his head, forgetting that she couldn't see him. A year was plenty of time to adjust to idea of being a husband and not a boyfriend. A year sounded reasonable. Most couples waited a year, didn't they?

Suddenly, the curtain was pulled back and a fresh faced, eager Buffy was looking at him expectantly. He forced a smile and nodded again, agreeing.

"Ok then. Tonight we can talk about who will be in the wedding party, and how big we want this thing." Buffy leaned forward and sweetly kissed his wet cheek before flouncing out of the bathroom. He finished showering, threw his damp towel into the laundry basket, and headed for the kitchen.

Buffy was already gone but had been thoughtful enough to make him tea and toast. Spike took a seat at the table where he ate his breakfast while skimming the headlines of the morning paper. Flipping through the pages and drinking his tea, he was rather surprised when he came across a printed picture of Buffy and himself. He recognized the picture as one that Dawn had taken last year at the pier. He read the script beneath the picture and nearly choked on the bite of toast he'd just taken.

It was an engagement announcement.

_Bloody hell! It's already started._

* * *

She saw the announcement in the paper before she'd left for work and had every intention of tracking down the person who had submitted it—and she knew very well who it was. The announcement had indicated that they were planning a May wedding, but they hadn't actually talked about setting the date until that very morning. She had just mentioned May offhandedly to her mother and Dawn last week, and suddenly she was looking at herself and Spike in the morning paper. And to make it all worse, the picture was not at all flattering.

She sat down at her desk and immediately picked up the phone. She dialled the familiar number and waited for someone to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi Mom, it's me," Buffy said, playing with the phone cord. "Has Dawn left yet?"

"No, she doesn't have class until this afternoon so I'm letting her sleep in. I, unfortunately, am going to be late for work if I don't leave now."

"Well, can you do me a favor before you go? Roll up your newspaper and smack her over the head with it."

"Why would I do that?" her mom asked, tiredly.

"She put an engagement announcement in the paper without asking me if I was okay with it."

Her mom was quiet for a moment before answering. "Oh honey, that was me."

Buffy slumped down further in her seat. "Why did you do that and with that picture? He only proposed last week."

"Honey, you look fine in that picture" her mom said, ignoring the grumbling that followed. "Besides, that's what you do when you get engaged. You make it publically known."

"Mom, you told **the public** we'd be getting married next May."

"You said May."

"No, I said **maybe**May, but that nothing was for sure. We haven't set an actual date yet." Buffy sighed heavily. She tried bringing it up earlier while Spike was in the shower, but it didn't seem like he really wanted to get into specifics. This was fine with her. She could wait a little longer despite her excitement.

"Well, it's not such a big deal is it? I mean it's just a newspaper," her mom replied. "Ok, I'm sorry. I won't do anything like that again without your say-so, but I just thought I was helping. Giving you one less thing to do."

"I appreciate the thought, Mom. We talked about sometimes next spring, but we're not in any rush. So, I'm just going to tackle one thing at a time." Actually, she had cornered him in the shower and he had just agreed to everything she said.

"Oh, Buffy! You can't take your sweet time if you want to get everything done for next spring. You're going to need lots of time and help to get it all done by then."

Buffy wrapped the phone cord around her fingers, and bit her lip anxiously. When she thought about it, she knew that her mother was right. She was going to need as much help as she could get. A wedding would take lots of planning and if she didn't start getting the important things taken care of as soon as possible, there was no way next May was going to be an option.

But as eager as she was to start planning, Buffy knew she couldn't until Spike gave her the go ahead.

"So, what do I do first?" Buffy asked in a small, unsure voice. Her mother would know what to do surely. After all, she'd already had the presence of mind to send out the engagement notice.

"You and Spike need to start making important decisions, like setting a date."

"Yeah, I caught on to that."

"Give me a call later and let me know what's going on. Now, I really have to go. I'm late enough as it is."

"Ok," Buffy said, dazed. "Bye, Mom."

She hung up the receiver and put her head in her hands. What was Spike going to make of all this? Was she getting too ahead of herself? She had a serious headache, and something told her that it was going to be sticking around for a while.

When Buffy looked up she was startled to see Amanda, a student she met with regularly, sitting on the other side of her desk with an expectant look on her face.

"Umm...Miss Summers? Am I early? I really wanted to talk to you about that boy I had mentioned last time. His name's RJ and he's just the coolest, cutest, most-thickest-eyelashes-having boy I've ever met!"

_Oh yeah, this headache is here to stay,_ Buffy thought to herself, pretending to look fascinated.

* * *

"Spike! It's measure twice and cut once!"

Xander knew that the blonde man was distracted, but it was really getting out hand. Spike kept misplacing his tools, screwing up measurements, losing control of the electric sander, and he'd managed to open the porta-potty twice now, when it was occupied. That last one wasn't really his fault though, as the other guys kept forgetting to properly lock the door. As the project manager, Xander knew he had to intervene. As Buffy's friend, he knew he **really** had to intervene.

"Spike!" He rapped his knuckles on Spike's hard-hat when he didn't respond. "Let's have a talk."

Spike followed Xander into his onsite office. Xander sat down in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk. He watched Spike take off his helmet and smooth back his platinum curls.

"This needs to stop, man!" Xander said, picking up the bean bag on his desk and tossing it between his hands. "I threw some work your way so that you could keep writing and pay the bills at the same time. That was me doing you and Buffy a favor, so don't throw it back in my face by screwing it up."

Spike looked like he was going to make some smart ass retort, but then the smirk slipped away. He nodded solemnly instead.

"Right. Sorry, Harris."

Xander looked at Spike carefully. The man, who had been a constant pain in the ass for the last three and a half years, now looked like a tired, lost little boy. Xander sat up, taking his feet of his desk, and put down the bean bag.

"Why are you sweating this so bad? Don't you want to marry her?"

Spike nodded his head but as far as Xander could tell, there was no resolve in his face.

"Do you think it was a mistake?" He asked, afraid to hear the answer. How was he supposed to keep all of this quiet from Buffy? Should he keep it quiet or tell her? Would he be a bad friend if he didn't? Then again, Xander had been in a similar situation a few years ago and could understand Spike's point of view better than Buffy would. Maybe this should be a secret between them.

It was quite the dilemma he had created for himself. _Why didn't I just hang up the phone when he called?_ Xander thought to himself.

Spike shook his head. "No. I **do** want to marry her, but I don't think I'm ready to. What if it all goes to shit? What if we're not meant to be together and I'm just deluding myself? What if we end up hating each other, because we rushed into this?"

Xander bobbed his head, in understanding. He'd been in the **exact** same situation, thinking the **exact** same way. Which meant he had, what he thought, was the solution to Spike's anxiety while sparing Buffy's feelings.

"She wants me to pick a date! Already! Next she'll want me to pick out bleeding china patterns. Me!"

Xander stood up and cut him off mid-rant, putting both his hands on Spike's shoulders and shaking him to get his full attention.

"Get a grip, Spike!" Xander snapped. "Now, this is what you're gonna do: you're gonna help plan this wedding one step at a time. Whenever she asks you to make a decision on floral arrangements or whatever, you are gonna weigh the pros and cons of marrying her, and every time you'll see that proposing was the smartest thing you've ever done."

Spike's eye narrowed and he shoved Xander away from him. "That's not going to work, you git! You don't know what you're saying."

Xander squared his shoulders and took a step forward, getting in Spike's face.

"Are you desperate?"

"Well, yes. But—"

"Then right now I'm frigging Yoda!"

* * *

**Let me know what you think! As I said, I have no beta at the moment, so don't be afraid to point out any mistakes you find.**


	8. Chapter 7

"May 15th."

"May 15th?"

"May 15th," she repeated.

After dinner Spike had went to work on his manuscript. He'd been commissioned to write an anthology of poems which were to be completed by the end of July. So, whenever inspiration struck Buffy knew better than to disturb him. Tonight however, when she knocked on the door and entered his office/her gym, inspiration would have to wait.

By the time she'd finished doing the dishes, she'd finally mustered the courage to go and talk to him about what had been bothering her all day.

"What about May 15th?" Spike looked up from the screen of his laptop.

"I think it sounds like a lovely day to get married."

Spike's mouth dropped open.

Buffy moved across the room to stand at his desk, ready to plead her case. "I want us to set a date."

"May 15th?" Spike asked, leaning back in his swivel chair.

"Yeah, sure. I mean it has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Spike removed his glasses and wiped the lenses with the hem of his black t-shirt. He looked so much like his father when he did that, Buffy noticed with fondness. She sat on the corner of the desk and waited for him to respond.

"That's a little less than a year away."

"Well, then when would you prefer?"

He didn't answer. "I thought we had already discussed this."

"Barely. I tried bringing it up before but you started getting all avoidy." Buffy paused and looked down at her knees. "You do still want to get married, right?"

Spike reached over and took her hands into his. "I do want to." He seemed to have more to say but he didn't.

Buffy squeezed his hands gently and sighed. "I'm not trying to rush you or anything. I'm just really excited and I'd really like to start making plans. But to do that I need to know when I'm planning everything for."

Spike nodded. "Whenever you want is fine, Luv, really."

"So, you're okay with May 15th?"

"It's fine."

Buffy's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Maybe she was imagining it, but it was like Spike was saying anything just to get out of the conversation. She didn't call him on it, though. They'd set a date like she wanted, so she got up and left him to his work.

"Oh, Honey?" she called over her shoulder.

"Yes, Luv?"

"You still need to call Giles."

* * *

"Hello?"

"Hello, Dad."

"William?"

"It's Spike, Dad."

Spike could practically hear his father rolling his eyes. No matter how much he insisted upon it, Rupert Giles refused to call him by any other name than the one his wife had picked out for him.

"William, it is six o'clock in the morning here. Why are you calling?"

"I knew you'd be up to go for your run," Spike said, slumping back into his desk chair. "I just wanted to give you the news."

"News?"

"Buffy said 'yes'."

Despite the fact that his father and he hadn't been very close since the death of Spike's mother, there was one thing upon which they agreed on entirely: Buffy was a hell of a woman. Rupert adored his son's fiancée, and had told Spike on many occasions how glad he was that things hadn't worked out between him and Drusilla.

"Oh William, that's wonderful news! I'm very happy for you both!"

Spike ran his hands through his hair. "Thanks, Dad."

"Wait... I thought you were proposing last week?"

"I did."

"You waited a week to tell me?" Rupert shouted into the phone.

"Well..."

"Honestly, William! You neglected to tell your own father that you were engaged?"

Spike winced. He knew he should have called his father sooner but hadn't been able to bring himself to pick up the phone. If he called his father, it was like acknowledging that they were getting the show on the road. Spike apologized weakly and tugged at the collar of his t-shirt, suddenly feeling rather restricted.

"I don't know what you're so upset about. I told you I was going to propose."

"But she said 'yes'! You should have told me! When are you having the wedding? Are you eloping? Have you already eloped? William, did you got to Las Vegas?"

"Is that Giles?" Buffy was standing by the door in her yummy-sushi pyjamas. "Can I talk to him?"

Spike nodded eagerly. "Dad?" He said interrupting his father's ranting. "I'm going to put Buffy on the phone. She wants to say 'hi'."

Handing off the phone to Buffy, relieved. He then slipped passed her and treaded down the hallway into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and got ready for bed. Soon he was slipping under the bed covers, and Buffy joined him in the bedroom. She turned off the light and climbed into bed beside him, having already finished getting ready before she got on the phone with Giles. She snuggled into his side, and Spike turned to kiss her forehead sweetly.

"I was just telling Giles all about your proposal."

"Were you?"

"He takes credit for the candles and roses."

"I could have come up with that all on my own."

Even in the dark, he knew she was grinning at him. "Uh-huh. Then he started to tell me about this trip he has planned to South America."

"Really?" Spike asked. "What for?"

"Something for smart people, I guess. I kinda tuned out when he started talking about it. But he's very excited."

"Rupert in the rainforest? That's a laugh," Spike said, smirking at the thought of his father in cargo shorts.

"He did mention something particularly interesting."

"Oh?"

"It's a three month expedition."

"Three months?"

"From April to June."

"So? Why is that particularly interesting? I mean three months is a long time, but—"

Buffy sighed heavily and buried her face into his shoulder. "March 15th."

"March 15th?"

"March 15th," she repeated, her voice muffled against his skin.

"What about March 15th?"

She pulled away from his shoulder and mumbled something. He peered into the darkness, trying to see her face. "What was that, Luv?"

"I said: I think it sounds like a lovely day to get married."

"What?"

He sat up quickly, almost breaking her nose with his shoulder.

"We can't get married without Giles there! He's your dad!" She insisted. "Besides, March 15th has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Spike his panic growing. She had just moved the wedding up by two months without warning. May 15th seemed much more favourable in comparison to March. He couldn't swallow, he couldn't blink. Poor Spike was frozen.

"Honey? Is that okay with you?"

Spike nodded, unaware that he was doing it.

"Spike?" She asked, unable to see him in the dark.

"Sure," he squeaked out.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, I just need some water." He flung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He walked out of their bedroom and down the up the hall. Instead of entering the bathroom, however, he passed by the door and instead entered his office/her gym.

He turned on his desk lamp and opened the top drawer to his desk. He pulled out a notebook of lined paper and reached for a pen. He flopped down into his chair and clicked his pen.

That was the night he took Xander's advice and started writing.


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer franchise. Any recognizable characters/locations from the series belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy or 20th Century Fox (I'm honestly not sure! I just know it's not me). Author's Note: Sorry it's taking so long to post, but I've hit a serious wall. I know where the story's headed but I'm having trouble getting there. Again, I want to thank eveyone who continues to read/review/follow this story. I hope you like this chapter! Let me know what you think.**

* * *

The next few weeks passed by all too quickly for Spike's liking. He had come down with a serious case of writer's block, and his manuscript was due in a matter of months. Not to mention that with each passing day, Buffy became more and more anxious to get started on their wedding plans. The school year had ended and she was now free to devote all of her time to finding the perfects venue, dress, table cloths, flowers etc. Their living room was littered with bridal magazines. He couldn't take a step without catching a glimpse of some woman dressed in white, staring up at him with expectations. It was definitely an intimidating look, especially when Buffy wore it.

So, Spike found one excuse after another to avoid that look. Right now he was in his office, huddled over his desk. He wished he could write something—good or bad—just to appear busy. Buffy was meeting her mother and Willow to come up with the budget. He realized that was something he and Buffy should probably do together but he just wasn't ready to participate yet. Besides, he trusted her. His girl was responsible—it was one of the first things he'd put on his list under the pros column.

"Are you sure you can't come?" Buffy said from the doorway. "I mean, I know I said I could handle it but it would be a lot more fun if you were there."

"Sorry, Luv. You know I'd be there if I could, but I've got to get going on this bloody thing." He gestured at the computer screen.

She returned his smile, hers every bit as forced as his was. "I know and it's okay. You should stay here and work. Don't worry, I'll take care of everything." She turned and shut the door behind her.

Spike heaved a grateful sigh once he heard the front door slam, signalling that she was gone. He loved her but it was easier to deal with his pre-wedding jitters if she wasn't there to constantly remind him of "the big day". Spike looked back at the screen of his computer and grimaced. This writer's block was kicking his ass.

_What the hell rhymes with effulgent?_

"If the numbers are right, then this is how much you'll have for the wedding."

Willow circled the number on the memo pad and slid it across the table for Joyce and Buffy to see. Buffy's face fell.

"Oh honey, its okay. You can make that work," Joyce soothed, rubbing circles on her daughter's back.

Buffy looked up and tried to swallow her look of disappointment. Willow offered her the last cookie and she took it without hesitation. "I knew it wouldn't be much but this is just sad!"

"Well, I'll help you make it stretch!" The redhead said, quickly. "And I'm sure Anya will know of all the best discount places."

"The number's not as small as you think it is. I'm going to chip in a little and I'm sure Mr. Giles will do the same," Joyce said.

Buffy tried not to laugh at how uncomfortable her mom still was by the mere mentioning of Giles. He and her mom had had a brief relationship a few years back but something happened between them which embarrassed them both so much, they still couldn't look each other in the eye to this very day. No one was ever allowed to mention their little fling ever again.

"Really?" Buffy asked before taking another bite of the cookie. The chunks of chocolate were comforting in this distressing time. The reality of being broke had hit her hard.

"Of course," Joyce said, passing the cream to Willow. "And Spike also has that advance from his publisher."

Buffy shook her head firmly. "No, that's not for the wedding. We're using that to finish paying off my student loans, and we're saving whatever's left for a car."

Willow choked on her tea. "A car," she sputtered.

"Yeah."

Joyce and Willow shared a nervous look. Buffy and cars did not mix. She was the driver that insurance companies hated. It was a miracle that she was given a licence.

"Is that a good idea?" Willow asked, timidly.

Buffy raised an eyebrow, challengingly. "What do you mean?

Willow looked away hurriedly, and reached for her glass of milk. "Hey, look! Calcium!"

"Spike and I are trying to do the mature, grown up thing. We're looking ahead."

"Maybe a little too far ahead," Joyce said, standing up and placing the empty glasses and cookie plate on the tray she'd used to carry everything in with.

"What do you mean?"

"Sweetheart, I don't think you need a car right now. I mean, I could understand if you were planning on having children right away. But now—you're not planning on having children right away, right?" Joyce nearly dropped the tray at the idea.

"A world of no." Buffy smirked at her mother's blatant relief.

"Good! Getting married young is one thing but having babies is just something you're not ready for. Trust me!"

"Not ready to be a granny yet, Mrs. Summers?"

"I just don't want my grandchildren to be confused about who mommy is. It's not my fault I have the body of a twenty year old," Joyce joked, swinging her hip exaggeratedly as she walked out of the room.

Buffy's gaze dropped down to her flat tummy. She knew that she wanted to be a mom someday, but right now was not the time. She and Spike could barely afford their own wedding, let alone kids. Parenthood would come in its own time, there was no need to rush things.

"Buffy, can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot," she said, looking up at Willow.

"Why am I here and Spike's not?"

Buffy shrugged. "He's writing, I told you that. His manuscript is due in a few months."

"He couldn't take a break?"

"He's really stuck on one of his poems! He wanted to come, but I told him I'd handle it."

"Buffy, this is your wedding. Shouldn't he be involved?"

"He will be! Just... later. He's got a really bad writer's block and they don't medicate for that. I don't want to bother him with silly stuff like floral arrangements when he needs to focus ."

"Well, you're going to have to talk to him about the budget. Maybe he can come up with some ways to cut corners so you can have a little extra to put towards the wedding."

"Maybe."

* * *

Walking home—because she was a long way off from getting that car—she thought back to what Willow had said.

She hadn't been technically lying when she said that Spike had to work on his manuscript. She had however, neglected to mention the tense look that crossed his face whenever she mentioned the wedding. Buffy didn't want him to feel excluded, but she couldn't help but think that maybe Spike didn't want to be involved in the planning. Maybe he thought she wanted to do all the planning. Maybe he could care less about what the wedding would be like. Don't men usually leave all of the decisions up to their fiancés? Xander wasn't actively involved in planning his wedding. Although look at what happened to Anya. She had a massive wig and made everyone around her miserable.

But she wasn't Anya, Buffy reminded herself. She was completely capable of taking care of things without going off the deep end. She was Buffy not Bridezilla! She knew she could do it, especially if she let her mom and Willow help out.

In fact, she could start managing by herself right now. Buffy stopped walking, a "Now Hiring" catching her eye. She took a deep breath and marched across the street, into the Doublemeat Palace.

* * *

**I'm still on the hunt for a new Beta-reader. My brother was nice enough to look this over for me, but I'd much rather have a proper editor. Until then, if you could be kind enough to point out any mistakes you find I'd appreciate it. Hope you liked it!**


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